It's just a memory
by diva.gonzo
Summary: One-shot. 2 May 1998 and the fighting just ended. You-know-who has just died an ignoble death. Kingsley Shacklebolt accepts responsibility to deal with the despot's final arrangements but to also protect the wizarding world from the possibility of the monster returning. What shall he do? Dark!Fic & Rated M for adult themes. This is not a M Rated smut-fit. No lemons added.


**A/N:** This one-shot was a plot bunny, thanks to coyotelaughingsoftly and I talking one night about this particular topic. I got interested because I was unhappy with what was out there - so why not write on the topic too. This isn't my normal fare but the Bunny wouldn't go away and the story started seeping out Sunday.

**This is a dark!fic. This is rated M for being a dark!fic.**

(**Secondary note:** This is a post-fighting fic and deals with adult themes and situations. **This is not a M Rated smut fic!** but it deals with things that can be triggering for some readers. **Cavet Emptor**.)

**A/N2:** My barrister tells me that I can only borrow Kingsley Shacklebolt, Poppy Pomfrey and a few others for fair use purposes. No money is being made from this. Fill out a survey for a free cookie. Offer expires 4/1/2014. -_DG_

* * *

Kingsley struggled to his feet on the back wall of the Great Hall. For some reason he couldn't fathom, he was still alive. He looked to his left and saw Horace Slughorn looking as befuddled as he was. To his right was Minerva McGonagall. She was shocked as well. They all knew the spell that You-know-Who just blasted them with. Auror grade shield charms didn't hold up against that particular spell at all.

But for some reason, they were all still alive, if only slightly injured. He felt the blood dripping down his head but he was coherent.

Three students helped him to his feet, their clothes mangled and singed from curses and covered in soot and masonry dust. Someone put a wand to his head and cleaned his face of blood. Another checked him for spell damage. And a third stood protective watch while he was being tended to.

Everyone turned once he was slightly healed and watched the confrontation between Harry Potter and his nemesis.

Bright light burst through the stained glass windows of the Great Hall and the Magic between the two erupted. Spells flew and the final monster was slain, falling to the ground in mundane finality.

Kingsley stood there absorbing the magnitude of what he just heard and witnessed. Immediately, the gears in his head started churning. There would be ripples in the government to have to contain and quell, once he got the situation under some semblance of control.

Immediately, Percy Weasley came up to him, dragging along what looked to be none other than the Minister of Magic. "Weasley, what in Merlin's name are you doing, dragging a Minister of Magic behind you?"

"Sorry, sir, but it's an arrest of the Minister for High Treason."

"Those are serious charges there, Weasley."

"Yes, sir, but I have documented proof in a secure location that proves his actions in fostering the coup against Scrimgeour."

"Anyone else, Weasley?"

"Why, yes, sir. Yaxley, in addition to –"

"One name in particular, Weasley."

Percy stood there immobile. He looked around before stepping right up to the Auror. "If you want proof against Umbridge, I have that too."

Percy unrolled his bloody sleeves to show the blood quill scars on his arms. "A traitor or a freedom fighter, you decide, Sir."

"It's good enough for me, Weasley. I'll need you later today, at the Minstry. We'll start the clean-up at the Ministry."

"Yes, Sir." Percy walked back to his family on the other side of the expansive room. Kingsley stood numb watching the slow change happen. He had a monumental task ahead in the next 36 hours if he was to catch the bulk of the fiends still on the run. But first things first.

"McGonagall?"

The interim Headmistress toddled over, using a walking stick as a support while someone was still bandaging her head. "I have a government to solidify for the Wizengamot. Can you handle things here for now?"

"Yes, sir, for now. Do you need to leave?"

Kingsley had Thicknesse next to him, rendered immobile by charms and lashings. "I have to take this traitor into the Ministry for holding, as well as arrest a few people in their offices."

Minerva surveyed the hall and the people gathered. People were searching the crowds, trying to find their loved one. Injured and healthy elves were trying to get the room straightened up. The few who fell in the room were being taken care of to the dais where the others were being kept for the time being – until their families could make arrangements.

She turned back to the Auror standing in front of her. Respect for her fighting partner showed on her face, still covered at the moment in field dressings. "We're good for now, I reckon."

He turned and saw the remains of the fiend still lying on the floor of the Hall. The crowds were keeping their distance from the mess there. "Can you hold this criminal for the next ten minutes? I'm going to save you the trouble of dealing with that loathsome piece of refuse, at least until I can return later to decide what I want to do with the sodding bastard."

"As you wish, minister."

He pulled his wand – 14 ½" ebony and dragon heartstring – and levitated the desiccated remains in front of him. He would scrub himself later once the fiend was safely stashed until he could return.

"What about that one, Minister?"

He turned and saw where Minerva was motioning to. Bellatrix Lestrange was still crumpled by the far wall. They stood silent and watched while Luna Lovegood walked up to the fiend she had been fighting earlier.

"Is her sister Narcissa Malfoy present?"

The two watched Luna nudge the witch's remains with her toe. As expected, the fiend didn't respond. Molly Weasley performed her magic flawlessly.

Luna took a deep breath before spitting on the monster.

"Luna, no! Stop that. What are you doing?

She turned and the two witnesses saw fury in her eyes.

"What you did is uncalled for, no matter how revolting she is. I will not tolerate those actions further. Understand?"

Luna took another deep breath before nodding in affirmation. She turned on her heel and walked off towards the tables on the far end of the hall.

"What was that about, Minerva?" She turned and saw concern on Kingsley's face.

"Luna Lovegood is one of the sweetest and most gentle souls at Hogwarts. What she just did is not her at all, and completely out of character for the child I've taught. I have no idea why that beautiful child would do that."

"The ravages of war, possibly. But wasn't she kidnapped back in December?"

"Yes sir, off the Hogwarts train."

Kingsley shook his head. "Another thing we have to get to the bottom of. Anyway, is Mrs. Malfoy here?"

Minerva caught a glimpse of the brown haired witch hugging her soot covered son. "Yes, sir, she is."

"Then since she's here, she can handle her sister's arrangements. I doubt her husband will be in a position to do anything about her, or her brother in law, for that matter."

"Very good, sir. I'll speak with her once you return."

Kingsley turned to the remains under his control and slowly made his way out of the hall. He knew an abandoned room, a storage room, that would suffice until he could return and decide what to do with the sod who caused such calamity.

He saw and noted the abundance of spell damage on the stone walls, and the gore of the fighting that just ended a short while ago. Any other day of the year, he'd call for a house elf to come and do some cleaning of the scene. Today, though, he took in all the horror of what happened. He was an Auror and needed to document his findings for the Wizengamot when the time came.

The court would need to know about today's events at Hogwarts. Historians would want to write about this day.

Kingsley made a command decision, one that might cause strife politically, but could also quell any future problems. People will ask starting tomorrow what happened to the monster who caused such strife. Kingsley snorted in consternation. _Imagine that, a barely-legal wizard fought and survived the darkest of magic. Even senior Aurors would have had the fight of their lives on their hands. _For the safety and sanity of the Wizarding world, the serpent would have to be consigned to ignominy, spoken as quickly as a monster but one that could never return.

The demon deserved no less, for tapping darkest magic that even Aurors were incapable of dealing with.

He walked the hall another minute until he came to the particular room he wanted. He found it earlier when he was fighting in the hallways. It was small, like a classroom for first years. Desks were shoved along the walls. Ancient drawings dotted the walls, along with what looked like three inches of dust on every surface of the room.

He shoved the corpse into the room and put an Auror grade locking charm on the remains, to cement them to the floor before he could return. He turned back to the door and cast a shielding ward to hide what he needed until he could return late tonight.

Kingsley closed the heavy oak door behind him and locked it, sealed it, and put Auror grade wardings on the door. Now, the only ones who could get into the room would be the elves, and he could remedy that potential problem, once he spoke with the Headmistress once again.

He walked back along the halls, scanning every inch of hallway. A groan under a pile of rock alerted him to a potential victim. He turned and worked frantically, using magic born of despair, to lift the masonry. Sure enough, there was another student, one he couldn't identify.

"You're found. I've got you."

The student moaned under his touch. He turned and cast his _Patronus_ towards the Great Hall. He prayed that it was enough.

Kingsley turned back to the student in his arms. "Hold on, you're safe. Stay with me. Help's coming."

He grasped a small pale hand in his dark one. She was covered in masonry dust, soot, blood and spell damage. She looked pitifully small in front of him. "What's your name, child? Where are your parents?"

"Daphne Greengrass."

Kingsley heard it first, the sounds of racing footfalls.

"Keep breathing, they're almost here."

Daphne nodded gently and winced. "It hurts."

"I know but we'll get you help."

Madame Pomfrey skidded to a stop next to the Auror, a black bag in hand. "I got here as quick as I could."

"I found her under a pile of rubble. She might have some internal damages, maybe cracked ribs."

"Did you move her?"

"No, I didn't."

"Excellent."

Heavy wheezing came around the corner. Kingsley stole a glance, recognizing the Herbology professor.

"We've got it. Thanks for letting us know."

"Need anything further?"

"Not for us. You might want to tell Minerva that search parties for additional survivors might be wise for now. Poppy has a full hospital wing but we need to evacuate out the worst or bring in some healers to help with the injured."

"I'll do that on my way into Whitehall."

Kingsley stood from where he had knelt down to see to the injured student.

"Wait. My father is a healer at St. Mungo's. Healer Duncan Greengrass. Get him here. He can help."

"Thank you, I shall see if he can."

Kingsley turned and strode quickly into the Great Hall. Sure enough, Minerva still had the current minister bound. "Ah, there you are."

Kingsley flourished his wand and took back the prisoner. "I have to go to the Ministry and hand over this traitor. I also have to stop at St. Mungo's and get some help for the injured here. Poppy mentioned that she's over-inundated with casualties."

"That's not necessary," a voice intoned from the front doors. They looked and saw a cadre of healers and medi-witches walking into the room. One healer walked up to the front while the others spread among the survivors in the room. ""We're here to help. I'm Healer Greengrass."

Kingsley shook his hand. "I just left your daughter in a hallway around the corner. She really could use your help."

The healer's face changed to one of horror before he turned heel and ran from the room, his black bag swaying in his hands.

"Minister?"

Kingsley turned and saw Minerva standing next to him. "On my way back I heard a moan in a hallway. I stopped and rendered aid to a student. It was Daphne Greengrass."

"We need to check the castle."

He nodded his head. "I concur, but I cannot help at the moment. I have to see to the Ministry."

"No, you go. I can manage it from here."

Shacklebolt twitched his wand. The current deposed minister stepped forward. "As my duty as an Auror and officer of the court for the Wizengamot, I'm arresting you under the charges of high treason against the Mugwump and Crown, for facilitating a coup against a sitting Minister of Magic, and murder most foul, of your predecessor, Rufus Scrimgeour. I'm also charging you with Conspiracy to commit murder, for the death of your predecessor at MLS, Ameila Bones."

He stepped forward. "I hope, for your own sake, that there is a bloody good reason why you assisted in this atrocity. Because if the court finds that you willingly participated, you know what the results will be."

Fear crossed Pius Thicknesse face.

"Come on. You're not the only one I have to arrest today."

The two men made their way slowly to the front doors.

* * *

**OooOOooO**

It was terribly late, so late that even the grounds of the castle were preternaturally quiet. His broom was in hand and he had to finish one particular task tonight. He might be exhausted but his training might be the one thing keeping his back straight and his focus on the mission first on his mind.

He walked with a purpose, watching for those who might even think of noticing him. Fortunately, Auror grade disillusionment spells were fantastic. The protective charms on him dampened any sounds and hid any possible sneak-o-scopes that might be in use.

After the day he had, he needed to finish his task before laying his head down for an hour before getting back to the task of keeping the Ministry standing after the rot of the regime. He'd accomplished his tasks that were of the utmost importance- establishing a chain of command for the Aurors that were still on-duty. The traitors ran when they saw him arrive – and that was fine. It was just more to hunt down and another task to accomplish in the following weeks and months to come.

He'd sent a Level 1 urgent note to the Director at St. Mungo's, to get healers and medi-witches to the School and evacuate the worst of the casualties to the hospital.

The next item on his agenda was to clear the obvious traitors from the Ministry. After putting 10 trusted men on duty down in the holding cells, he took another 4 with him and started the arrests of the complicit Undersecretaries. Thicknesse was already in a holding cell, the first one in. Yaxley was missing. He heard a rumor that one of the Weasley boys disarmed him and held him but when he inquired, the slippery bugger had vanished. He'd arrested Albert Runcorn as well, so he wouldn't tip off the one that he truly wanted. No, that arrest was one of the greatest pleasures he'd ever accomplished.

Kingsley walked into the spacious office of Dolores Unbridge and arrested her on charges very similar to the Minister: High treason and facilitation of the coup of the Ministry. Her screeching and howls echoed through the halls of the ministry, and enthusiastic applause echoed behind her as they made their way to the hold cells.

She yelled vicious epithets at Percy Weasley, who Kingsley had requested to assist. He was the only one of the bureaucrats he trusted to handle the document collection. Percy wouldn't destroy vital evidence, not after everything that happened to him and the family. He was also the only one who would destroy evidence that might be personally damaging.

Percy reported that he'd cleared the offices of Umbridge, Runcorn, and Yaxley and the volumes of parchment and documents were in a secure place. Kingsley then ordered him back to the castle to rest, since he would be vital in the next few weeks to handle the rebuild.

All that was left was dealing with one last piece of trash before starting the second day of a brave new world.

He opened the front doors to the castle silently and slipped inside. He walked with stealth, having silenced his footfalls. No one needed to know he was in the castle, not with what final task he was going to accomplish. He knew that Minerva would have had the presence of mind to get the castle protected, if only barely, to keep it from being seen. Those inside would need to feel safe, even if it was nothing more than illusion.

There were nights after a mission where he couldn't sleep. Some Aurors self-medicated with potions or Firewhiskey to numb the pain. He chose to do meditative arts. Tai-chi was how he overcame some of the horrors he saw out in the field. Moody was a lesson in "bad coping skills."

Tomorrow would be an hour-long session. He saw too much today to not need it.

Kingsley stepped into the Great Hall and saw that the room was once again mostly repaired. There was still scorch damage on the walls and there were places in the floor where the stone had melted under the spell damage from the dueling. What didn't surprise him was the crowd in the hall at half two in the morning.

Students and adults sat together, house demarcations gone for the night. At one table was Lee Jordan talking with Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, drinking to celebrate life and talking up a drunken storm. Slughorn had already passed out next to them, snoring away on the tabletop.

A few spaces down was George Weasley, also fast asleep on the table top. His brothers Charlie and Percy were sitting on one side, drinking into the night. _That ignorant sod, not heeding my advice. _Kingsley growled at himself.

_Don't be so hard on the lad. He lost a brother today and endured so much in the ministry. _

_He better step up tomorrow and in the coming weeks. I need his brilliance and loyalty to help me rebuild. Arthur too. They can get treatment for the potions addiction later. But I need them to help. I can't do it by myself._

The surprise was Ginny Weasley, sitting next to her almost catatonic brother, and Luna. They were talking up a storm too, but also keeping George company. A tidy yet scarred hand was running her fingers along his head and on his shoulders.

He scanned the room and saw other students – various ones he knew had fought in the castle but didn't know their names. He'd make a point later to find out everyone who did stand in defense and make sure they were taken care of, one way or another. He also needed a list of the fallen.

He turned and walked back out of the Great hall with the intention of finishing his duty tonight.

His first stop was the front doors to the Hospital wing. He stayed there but a moment, focusing his mind on that particular moment. He needed it for later. He turned and made his way back to the original hallway with the intention of collecting the trash he left earlier today.

His footsteps echoed in his head but there was no sound in the stone hallway. He retraced the path to the abandoned classroom, two left turns and then a long stretch of hall. Sure enough there it stood, covered in Auror magic and not touched.

He pulled his wand and set to work removing the protective enchantments and locks to be able to retrieve the rubbish. Sure enough, the remains of Lord Voldemort were still lying on the dusty classroom floor. Even standing in the same room, he felt decidedly tainted.

_There's no one else to do this. Quit being a git and get it done._

Kingsley Disapparated the body before him. Under the enchantment, he could see it but no one else could. That would be vital on the trip to where they were going.

Kingsley left the room with his parcel and they slowly made their way to the abandoned fifth floor bathroom. Everyone who attended Hogwarts knew about Moaning Myrtle. He just hoped that she would leave him be for the next hour.

Sure enough, he made it to the abandoned toilets and there was no one to be found. Not a peep was heard from the stalls. _Merlin's own luck this morning._

Kingsley stepped up to the particular sink and verified he had the right one. He saw the snake etched on it. _Legend is really fact. And kids discovered it. Bollocks. _He hissed like Harry showed him and after a few tries, the sink started moving. _Bloody hell, it was true. But this tale needs to disappear into folklore as soon as possible._

Once the sink quit moving, he rudely shoved the remains of Riddle down the pipe opening. He heard a crash at the bottom and only then mounted his broom for the ride down.

He landed gently after the spiral down under the castle. Bones littered the landing point along with fallen rocks and other remnants. "Come on you sod, we have one last stop for your sorry arse."

He pulled his wand again and threw the broom across his shoulders. Ever so slowly he made his way to the open door. The smell was wretched, like mold that had been left to rot for too long. "Perfect for you," Kingsley muttered under his breath.

Kingsley propped his broom outside the chamber. He'd need it again to escape the caverns he chose as Riddle's final demise. He walked a few more meters to where the skeletal remains of a basilisk lay. "Blimey, there's so much more I have to find out. Bugger that Potter did all of this."

A flick of the wand and he settled the remains of Tom Riddle next to the basilisk.

He stood there a moment and pointed his wand, thinking _accio_ to the remaining basilisk fang lying unused on the ground. Kingsley stopped it an inch from his hand, intending to use magic to do the nasty work. "Superstitious, but with this bastard, I'm not taking any chances. Luna had the right idea, even if Minerva scolded her."

He waved his wand again and the fang impaled into the monster's chest, infusing the body with the remaining tar-like venom that was still present. "If you resurrect from what I'm about to do to you, then you are truly demonic, like the stories my Grandmother used to tell."

Kingsley stood watch for another few minutes, to verify that the task was thoroughly done. He'd never performed such gruesome tasks but for this one, he'd do it – and then not regret answering for it.

"For what you did to the Wizarding world, this is the fate you've truly deserved. Give it a few years and people will only speak of you as a boogieman for kids to act right. Only those whom you affected directly will have to cope with the terror you inflicted on Wizarding kind."

The monster never stirred from the cold eulogy given.

"And now that you are truly dead, it's time to dispose of you, permanently."

Kingsley stepped back and pointed his wand at the remains. Fiendfyre would be nice but as tired as he was, there was doubt he could control it. There was Gulbraithian fire, but he didn't want anything in the room catching too. No one was going to come in here again if he had any say in the matter.

Once a memorial was erected for the fallen heroes, he'd enchant Gulbraithian Fire for them. They deserved no less honor.

He stood a second and tried to remember the incantation his great grandmother taught him, the one spell before he attended Hogwarts years prior. He grinned, remembering her lesson. She was a witch of prodigious talent before she immigrated to England with his great-grandfather.

He pointed the wand and uttered the incantation under his breath. Miniscule movements, followed by a whip-like flourish at the end and the remains of Tom Riddle started to burn. Before it grew too far, he erected a shield charm over Riddle and the basilisk, watching them incinerate under a magical dome that he erected.

It took an hour for the fire to burn all of the remains under the dome into powered ash but he didn't mind the wait. In this case, trusting the job to finish independently was how the mess started in the first place. He needed to make sure that the bastard would never be resurrected again, normally or through dark magic means.

The fire flashed purple one last time and winked out. "Thank you Nini for that lesson."

He stepped up to the ash on the stone floor and found only pure powder remaining. "One last thing, now."

He stepped back, almost to the front of the chamber by the rolling door. He focused on the spell in question. Water was the one element he always had trouble dealing with. A muttered prayer of competence to any deity who would listen and he pointed his wand at the water at the far end of the chamber. He pulled it as hard as he could, intending to use the water to dilute the ashes to non-existence once and for all.

He used the wall of water and crashed it onto the stones, feeling the mist backwash over him. He did that particular spell three times, using magic to scour the stones in front of him.

After the third one, he walked the chamber again. Where Riddle and the other monster lay was nothing but wet stone, scoured of ash and soot. He nodded at the job performed. "Now you're nothing but a memory."

Kingsley turned and made his way back to the metal chamber door. He climbed up the wall to the opening and stepped back out the other side. With broom in hand, he walked a short distance away and repeated the hissing that tore at his throat. The magic on the door accepted his imitation of parseltongue and sealed itself. "Now to make sure."

With a wand in hand, he sealed the chamber with a _fidelus_ charm and made himself the secret keeper. He took three steps backwards and the chamber door disappeared into the illusion of solid rock. _Perfect._

Kingsley walked away and towards his final duty, in protection of Wizarding kind.

* * *

**OooOOooO**

Kingsley removed the disillusionment enchantments from his body and robes, and cancelled the silencing charms on his feet. He was now normal in appearance. He stepped into the Hospital ward looking for the one person who would, he knew, do her bound duty above all else.

He spied her in the corner, looking fresh after 36 hours on station. He saw the casualties that were remaining at the school – the ones who didn't need a healer to help them cope with terrible spell damage or other trauma needs.

She turned and saw him standing in the doorway. "Auror Shacklebolt. It's 4am. Why are you here this time of the morning?"

"I finished some tasks and wanted to make my way back to check here. How are the kids doing?"

"We transferred the worst ones to St. Mungo's in London. There were so many who were injured. But I was able to save quite a few. But sir, there were so many I couldn't."

Kingsley laid a hand on her shoulder and saw the bone deep weariness in her eyes and on her stern features. "We'll mourn the dead once we're done fighting like hell for the living. And I promise you that those who are still out there will face justice."

The matron took a shaky breath and stilled her features. "Very good, sir."

"Now, I only ask one thing of you, Madame."

"Yes, sir. How can I help?"

Kingsley stood before the Medi-witch and put his wand to his temple. He focused his memories in order, from the moment he stepped to the door of the hospital wing the first time to now. The recollection in between of almost 2 hours was virtually seamless. With the wand to his temple, he pulled the 2 hours of memories out of his head and onto his wand. It came out like a large slug from his temple, staying balanced on the tip of his wand.

"Sir?"

"A stone pestle, if you please."

Poppy reached for the table on the wall and procured as he requested. He dropped the memory into the bowl and took it from her hands. "I need a witness for what I'm about to do. Once I have a moment, I will replace your pestle."

"Sir?"

A look passed between the two people.

Kingsley took the pestle with the memory in it and put it on the floor. He repeated the incantation to produce the violet fire, and the memory went up in smoke in a second. He looked in the bowl and saw that only soot remained.

"Now I will replace the bowl for you if you wish."

"That was a memory you just incinerated. Do I want to know what that was about?"

"I wouldn't know. It was just a memory."

* * *

**OooOOooO**

_**Three months later**_

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood in the middle of the Wizengamot. He had been confirmed as Interim Minister of Magic the first night after the Battle of Hogwarts but he wasn't elected to the position until last week. But this was a different affair. He was on-scene for the fighting and giving deposition for the history books on what happened during the fighting.

"Minister, we have one final question to ask."

Kingsley nodded to the member on the back bench. There were so few remaining of the Wizengamot. Some died during the Coup. Others were killed by the regime when they wouldn't capitulate. And some were now in Azkaban awaiting trial. There were too many empty seats yet enough for a legal quorum.

"What happened to You-know-Who's remains?"

Kingsley took the parchment from his hands and turned it over to the Chief Mugwump. The facilitator read it and then handed it over to Percy Weasley, who was the scribe for today's proceedings.

The chief warlock looked furious. "You did what, Minister?"

"As my notarized parchment specifies, I disposed of the remains personally. I don't know the details because I removed the memory from my head and incinerated it before a witness."

Mayhem broke out among the members of the Wizengamot along with the people in the stands witnessing the proceedings. Voices were yelling over everyone. And yet Kingsley stood before the members silently awaiting the proceedings to continue.

"As an Auror, your duty –"

"My apologies, Chief, but my duty is first and foremost to Wizarding kind, followed by my duty to this Court. What I did was to protect the populace from using dark magic to resurrect the monster once again, unlike what we just went through. Does anyone wish to live through that reign of terror again?"

Silence echoed his answer.

"Censor me for it, if that will relieve your souls to keeping the letter of the law. But I will not leave our duty to children again, like what happened that night at Hogwarts. Those kids who fought and died on our behalf deserve absolutely no less from us, from this judicial body."

Voices erupted again. Many were shouting at one another about the raw and bald statements from the new Minister of Magic. He stood stalwart, knowing that he did his duty and would accept any recriminations for his actions.

**Silence! **The Chief warlock of the Wizengamot turned his shrewd eyes upon the Minster standing before him.

"Minister, what you did is absolutely disgusting, destroying facts that should have been kept for history and posterity. What example are you displaying if you destroy vital records on what happened to the final resting place of the despot and genocidal tyrant known as Lord Voldemort?"

Kingsley scowled at the gathering he was testifying to. "As I recall, Chief, many of this gathering stood aside while the maniac returned, refusing to acknowledge one child's warning when he did return to life, and dithered like fools, slandering the child until Riddle showed his disgusting face inside this Ministry. Even then, this court did close to nothing to keep him from devising and executing a coup. The child who uttered the warning was never apologized to, never given recompense for the libel made against his person, and for that, I have zero respect towards this court.

"So if that means, in my actions, that I am protecting this court from its own short-sighted stupidity and protecting it from any future issues regarding the demise and disposal of one Tom Marvolo Riddle, so be it.

"Censor me if you want. Sanction me if you so choose. But the knowledge of the final resting place of Lord Voldemort is nothing more than an incinerated memory, consigned to oblivion. The witness in question will testify to that action on my part."

The head warlock put his hand out and received the parchment from Percy Weasley.

"The court calls Poppy Pomfrey to the chair."

The matron medi-witch walked straight to the chair with her head held high and her back straight.

"For the record, state your name and occupation."

"Poppy Pomfrey. I'm the medi-witch stationed at Hogwarts School. I was present the night of the Battle of Hogwarts and wasn't relieved of duty until 72 hours later."

"This court thanks you for your service and Dedication that evening."

The medi-witch nodded her head.

"Were you a witness to the actions the Minister has testified to?"

For the next hour, she testified on behalf of what she saw that early morning in the hospital wing.

"One last question, if you please. Had you known that the memory he was burning was vital to the court, would you have stopped him from performing that act?"

Poppy recalled the smell of burnt flesh that night in her ward, along with the terror of the children in her care. She thought to the despair of Horace Slughorn and the fierce determination of Pomona Sprout to help her save the injured children.

"Chief Warlock, if I had known what that memory was, I'd have burned it myself, as my duty to the children who I couldn't save that night. And that is the truth."


End file.
